Off on a Comet

Chapter X

In which, with telescope and sounding-line, the search to discover
any vestiges of the province of Algeria is undertaken

The Dobryna, a strong craft of 200 tons burden, had
been built in the famous shipbuilding yards in the Isle of Wight. Her sea
going qualities were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a
circumnavigation of the globe. Neither Columbus nor Magellan had the use
of a ship as wellbuilt or sure when they set out across the Atlantic and
Pacific. Moreover, the Dobryna had several months of food in its
store-rooms, enough for it to make a tour of the entire Mediterranean
without being obliged to stop and take on new supplies. It had not, as it
happened, been necessary to increase its ballast. Whilst it was true that
it weighed less since the catastrophe, as did all material objects, the
water in which it floated weighed less too. The ratio of the two
quantities was exactly the same as it had been, and Dobryna was
precisely as navigable as it had been before.

Count Timascheff was himself no sailor, but had the greatest confidence
in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of Lieutenant Procope.

This lieutenant was a man of about thirty years of age, and an excellent
seaman. Born on the count’s estates, the son of a serf who had been
emancipated long before the famous edict of the Emperor Alexander,
Procope was sincerely attached, by a tie of gratitude as well as of duty
and affection, to his patron’s service. After an apprenticeship on a
merchant ship he had entered the imperial navy, and had already reached
the rank of lieutenant when the count appointed him to the charge of his
own private yacht, in which he was accustomed to spend by far the greater
part of his time, throughout the winter generally cruising in the
Mediterranean, whilst in the summer he visited more northern waters.

The ship could not have been in better hands. The lieutenant was well
informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession, and his
attainments were alike creditable to himself and to the liberal friend
who had given him his education. He had an excellent crew, consisting of
Tiglew the engineer, four sailors named Niegoch, Tolstoy, Etkef, and
Panofka, and Mochel the cook. These men, without exception, were all sons
of the count’s tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did they
cling to their old traditions, that it mattered little to them what
physical disorganization ensued, so long as they felt they were sharing
the experiences of their lord and master. The late astounding events,
however, had rendered Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less so from
his consciousness that the count secretly partook of his own anxiety.

Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards. With a
favourable wind she would certainly have made eleven knots an hour had
not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress. Although only a
moderate breeze was blowing, the sea was rough, a circumstance to be
accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the Earth’s
attraction rendering the liquid particles so buoyant, that by the mere
effect of oscillation they were carried to a height that was quite
unprecedented. M. Arago has fixed twenty-five or twenty-six feet as the
maximum elevation ever attained by the highest waves, and his
astonishment would have been very great to see them rising fifty or even
sixty feet. Nor did these waves in the usual way partially unfurl
themselves and rebound against the sides of the vessel; they might rather
be described as long undulations carrying the schooner (its weight
diminished from the same cause as that of the water) alternately to such
heights and depths, that if Captain Servadac had been subject to
seasickness he must have found himself in sorry plight. As the pitching,
however, was the result of a long uniform swell, the yacht did not labour
much harder than she would against the ordinary short strong waves of the
Mediterranean; the main inconvenience that was experienced was the
diminution in her proper rate of speed.

For a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the
coast of Algeria; but no land appeared to the south. The changed
positions of the planets rendered them of no avail for purposes of
nautical observation, nor could Lieutenant Procope calculate his latitude
and longitude by the altitude of the sun, as his reckonings would be
useless when applied to charts that had been constructed for the old
order of things; but nevertheless, by means of the log, which gave him
the rate of progress, and by the compass which indicated the direction in
which they were sailing, he was able to form an estimate of his position
that was sufficiently free from error for his immediate need.

Happily the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass; the magnetic
needle, which in these regions had pointed about 22 degrees from the
north pole, had never deviated in the least—a proof that, although east
and west had apparently changed places, north and south continued to
retain their normal position as cardinal points. The log and the compass,
therefore, were able to be called upon to do the work of the sextant,
which had become utterly useless.

On the first morning of the cruise Lieutenant Procope, who, like most
Russians, spoke French fluently, was explaining these peculiarities to
Captain Servadac; the count was present, and the conversation perpetually
recurred, as naturally it would, to the phenomena which remained so
inexplicable to them all.

“It is very evident,” said the lieutenant, “that ever since the 1st of
January the Earth has been moving in a new orbit, and from some unknown
cause has drawn nearer to the sun.”

“No doubt about that,” said Servadac; “and I suppose that, having crossed
the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the orbit of
Mercury.”

“And finish up by a collision with the sun!” added the count.

“There is no fear of that, sir. The Earth has undoubtedly entered upon a
new orbit, but she is not incurring any probable risk of being
precipitated onto the sun.”

“Can you satisfy us of that?” asked the count.

“I can, sir. I can give you a proof which I think you will own is
conclusive. If, as you suppose, the Earth is being drawn on so as to be
precipitated against the sun, the great centre of attraction of our
system, it could only be because the centrifugal and centripetal forces
that cause the planets to rotate in their several orbits had been
entirely suspended: in that case, indeed, the Earth would rush onwards
towards the sun, and in sixty-four days and a half the catastrophe you
dread would inevitably happen.”

“And what demonstration do you offer,” asked Servadac eagerly, “that it
will not happen?”

“Simply this, captain: that since the Earth entered her new orbit half
the sixty-four days has already elapsed, and yet it is only just recently
that she has crossed the orbit of Venus, hardly one-third of the distance
to be traversed to reach the sun.”

The lieutenant paused to allow time for reflection, and added: “Moreover,
I have every reason to believe that we are not so near the sun as we have
been. The temperature has been gradually diminishing; the heat upon
Gourbi Island is not greater now than we might ordinarily expect to find
in Algeria. At the same time, we have the problem still unsolved that the
Mediterranean has evidently been transported to the equatorial zone.”

Both the count and the captain expressed themselves reassured by his
representations, and observed that they must now do all in their power to
discover what had become of the vast continent of Africa, of which, they
were hitherto failing so completely to find a vestige.

Twenty-four hours after leaving the island, the Dobryna had passed
over the sites where Tenes, Cherchil, Koleah, and Sidi-Feruch once had
been, but of these towns not one appeared within range of the telescope.
Ocean reigned supreme. Lieutenant Procope was absolutely certain that he
had not mistaken his direction; the compass showed that the wind had
never shifted from the west, and this, with the rate of speed as
estimated by the log, combined to assure him that at this date, the 2nd
of February, the schooner was in lat. 36 degrees 49 min N. and long. 3
degrees 25 min E., the very spot which ought to have been occupied by the
Algerian capital. But Algiers, like all the other coast-towns, had
apparently been absorbed into the bowels of the Earth.

Captain Servadac, with clenched teeth and knitted brow, stood sternly,
almost fiercely, regarding the boundless waste of water. His pulse beat
fast as he recalled the friends and comrades with whom he had spent the
last few years in that vanished city. All the images of his past life
floated upon his memory; his thoughts sped away to his native France,
only to return again to wonder whether the depths of ocean would reveal
any traces of the Algerian metropolis.

“Is it not impossible,” he murmured aloud, “that any city should
disappear so completely? Would not the loftiest eminences of the city at
least be visible? Surely some portion of the Casbah must still rise above
the waves? The imperial fort, too, was built upon an elevation of 750
feet; it is incredible that it should be so totally submerged. Unless
some vestiges of these are found, I shall begin to suspect that the whole
of Africa has been swallowed in some vast abyss.”

Another circumstance was most remarkable. Not a material object of any
kind was to be noticed floating on the surface of the water; not one
branch of a tree had been seen drifting by, nor one spar belonging to one
of the numerous vessels that a month previously had been moored in the
magnificent bay which stretched twelve miles across from Cape Matafuz to
Point Pexade. Perhaps the depths might disclose what the surface failed
to reveal, and Count Timascheff, anxious that Servadac should have every
facility afforded him for solving his doubts, called for the
sounding-line. Forthwith, the lead was greased and lowered. To the
surprise of all, and especially of Lieutenant Procope, the line indicated
a bottom at a nearly uniform depth of from four to five fathoms; and
although the sounding was persevered with continuously for more than two
hours over a considerable area, the differences of level were
insignificant, not corresponding in any degree to what would be expected
over the site of a city that had been terraced like the seats of an
amphitheatre. Astounding as it seemed, what alternative was left but to
suppose that the Algerian capital had been completely levelled by the
flood?

It was truly unbelievable.

The sea-bottom was composed of neither rock, mud, sand, nor shells; the
sounding-lead brought up nothing but a kind of metallic dust, which
glittered with a strange iridescence, and the nature of which it was
impossible to determine, as it was totally unlike what had ever been
known to be raised from the bed of the Mediterranean.

“You must see, lieutenant, I should think, that we are not so near the
coast of Algeria as you imagined.”

The lieutenant shook his head. After pondering awhile, he said: “If we
were farther away I should expect to find a depth of two or three hundred
fathoms instead of five fathoms. Five fathoms! I confess I am puzzled.”

“So?” asked Count Timascheff.

“I don’t know what to think.”

“Monsieur le comte,” said Captain Servadac, “I beg of you, let us sail
further south and see whether we can’t discover there what we have looked
for in vain here!”

Count Timascheff consulted with lieutenant Procope, and agreed that there
they could afford a small amount of time exploring further to the south.

Hector Servadac thanked his host, and gave the co-ordinates to the
quartermaster.

For the next thirty-six hours, until the 4th of February, the sea was
examined and explored with the most unflagging perseverance. Its depth
remained invariable, still four, or at most five, fathoms; and although
its bottom was assiduously dredged, it was only to prove it barren of
marine production of any type.

The Dobryna sailed to the thirty-sixth degree of latitude, where,
by reference to the charts it was tolerably certain that she was sailing
over what was formerly the Sahel. This was the solid mass which separated
the rich plain of Mitidja from the sea, and over which formerly had
loomed the thousand-foot peak of Bouzaréah. Even after the engulfing of
the surrounding grounds, so tall a summit should have formed a small
island above this ocean, but there was nothing to be seen.

Going further down, the Dobryna sailed over the principal village
of the Sahel, still further to Boufarick, the city with the broad-shaded
streets of plane trees, further still to Blidah; but here they did not
even see the towers of the fort, which exceeded the Wadi-el-Kebir in
height by full twelve hundred feet.

Lieutenant Procope, disinclined to venture further across this completely
uncharted sea, asked to return northwards; but Captain Servadac begged
that they explore further to the south. And so they sailed.

They sailed over what had once been the mountains of Mouzaïa, with their
legendary caves; and Kabyles, famous for its forests of carob,
nettletrees and oaks, inhabited by lions, hyenas and jackals. The more
elevated summits of these mountains, between Bou-Roumi and Chiffa, should
have soared above the level of the flood water, since they were more than
five thousand feet high. But there was nothing to be seen, neither there
nor on the horizon where the sky and the sea merged.

Nothing was to be done but to put about, and return in disappointment
towards the north.

Thus the Dobryna regained the waters of the Mediterranean without
discovering a trace of the missing province of Algeria.